


find me in the region of the summer stars

by woahnope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Angst, Distance, Fluff, Goodbyes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woahnope/pseuds/woahnope
Summary: I love you so much Viktor. I can't stand to see you hurt, but I need to do this for your sake.
Or: If Yuri!!! on Ice isn't as optimistic as it was, this is how the story would have continued after episode 10. Heartbreak and miscommunication are common themes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my very first chaptered fic! i hope you like it.
> 
> title from one direction's song _[walking in the wind](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZycJRpLOazlLcoFGxGROO)_. unfortunately, i don't own any of the characters.

> _A week ago you said to me, "Do you believe I'll never be too far?"_

Yuuri and Viktor lay together on their adjoined super-single beds, fingers entwined. Both gazed longingly into each other's eyes, fingers intertwined. Viktor's eyes shifted down to the golden band on his right ring finger. It shone in the light, striking against the pale white of Viktor's skin, worn down by years of glove abrasion and desperate pleasure while on his quest to achieve success, in all senses of the word. Yuuri watched as Viktor pulled his fingers away from Yuuri's to gently touch the ring, as if he was memorising how it felt on his finger, getting used to the foreign object to be attached to his skin for life. Viktor was enamoured, as was Yuuri with his fiancé's blue eyes and the silver hair swept habitually, but inconveniently, over his eyes.

Out of habit, Yuuri brought his hand up to Viktor's hair, bringing it to the side of his face, behind his ear. Feeling a gentle touch on his earlobe, Viktor looked up at Yuuri.

"Hey, Yuuri," Viktor said. Yuuri blinked, waiting for Viktor to continue his sentence. Patiently, lovingly, knowingly –

"You know I'll be by your side for as long as you're willing to let me, right?"

Yuuri was stunned. Every time Yuuri felt a small tug at his heart, he knew it was love. Unconditional love. Yet he always felt a nagging in the back of his head, gently reminding him that this love was limited, timed, scheduled. And every time, Yuuri would fall gracelessly back down to reality, doubting everything he had ever known. His mother told him that unconditional love is possible. There are no limits to agape. But Yuuri found his agape somewhere else, not in the heart of a spiritual being, but in the eyes of a lover. This love was different, and Yuuri knew it. He kept it deep down in the crevices of his soul, where no one would pry deep enough to reach.

So why did Viktor know?

"I know," Yuuri replied instinctively. The walls are up. Viktor mustn't know.

It would be their second last night together, one laying opposite to the other, both staring into each other's eyes, fingers intertwined, heartstrings sewn together by a golden ring and unsaid promises.

Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri's lips – patiently, lovingly, knowingly.

> * * *
> 
>   _If you're lost, just look for me, you'll find me in the region of the summer stars._

They were in Barcelona for the Grand Prix Final. It's all they'd worked for. Figure skating was all they'd ever known, but being so close to the coveted gold medal was a new experience for the both of them. For Yuuri, it was the first time he remotely believed in his ability. For Viktor, it was the first time he was hoping for a gold medal that was not his own.

They thought the skating rink was big, but not as big as their dreams. Yet Yuuri's dreams got crushed on day eight of staying in the foreign land, a day after their second last night together. He messed up the quadruple flip, and with every skater performing their masterfully-crafted routines, his fingers slipped ever so slightly from the gold medal. No one would understand what the gold medal meant to him. A marriage was on the line. Eternal love was on the line. Unconditional love was on the line.

And if he lost the gold medal, he'd say goodbye to all three of them, only to seek them months later during Four Continents. Yuuri couldn't afford to wait any longer.

The nagging in the back of his head returned. Unconditional love is impossible anyway, it said, so just give it up. "Give it up..." Yuuri muttered under his breath, as he watched his fiancé be impressed yet again by a former rival. Give it up, he thought, as he watched his fiancé find new hope in a familiar face. Give it up, he believed, as he watched his fiancé's legacy be destroyed by a fresh face in senior division figure skating.

"After the Finals, let's end this," he said, knowing full well his fiancé would appreciate his decision. He'd prefer it this way, he thought.

I'll let him be free.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was painful to write. Happy New Year! Don't get too drunk, 2017 will hopefully have been worth the wait.

> T _he fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye means we’ve already won._

Viktor walks out of the bathroom in a robe. His hair is still damp from the shower and his face hasn’t been moisturised to perfection yet. Stunning, as always.

He makes a confused noise. His eyes meet Yuuri’s, and his hair bounces with the sudden movement. Droplets of water fall from his locks. His eyes are wide open now, the bright blue of his iris contrasting sharply with the dark surroundings. His mouth is slightly agape, and Yuuri is getting the urge to press his lips to his but _no, no, you have something to tell him, don’t get distracted_. He takes a deep breath.

“You’ve done more than enough for me, Viktor… Thanks to you, I was able to give everything I had to my last season,” Yuuri confesses. _This is embarrassing_ , he thinks, _I can’t believe this is how it’s going to end_. Viktor’s eyes are focused on him, like when he’s about to peck Yuuri on the cheek, or when Viktor is watching him perform a routine, in awe of the way Yuuri moves like the music is a part of him.

“Thank you for everything, Viktor,” he bows. “Thank you for being my coach.” He trains his eyes on Viktor’s room slippers.

A beat of silence. The room is so silent you could hear a lone tear fall onto someone’s skin. _Oh wait. Are those Viktor’s tears?_ The droplets fall in succession on Viktor’s fair skin.

Shock. Yuuri looks up. Viktor is crying. He doesn’t make a sound, though. It’s almost as if the falling tears are doing the crying for him. There is more and more water gathered in his eyes. He blinks. The tears follow his eyelids, downwards, then upwards into the air. It’s almost mesmerising. Yuuri could watch his fiancé cry all day.

A long sigh. “I didn’t expect Yuuri Katsuki to be such a selfish human being.”

“Yes, I made this selfish decision on my own.”

“I’m retiring.” The two words trigger Viktor’s tear ducts. A bitter expression is forming on his face - he furrows his brows, reduces his field of vision, and his lips curve downwards. He’s choking back emotion. The muffled sobbing starts.

He’s beautiful when he cries. Yuuri brings his hand up to Viktor’s hair, bringing it to the side of his face. Before he manages to pin the hair behind his ear, though, Viktor is retorting for the first time. “What are you doing, Yuuri?”

“Oh, I’m just surprised to see you cry.” Damn, I didn’t expect this type of reaction from him. Shouldn’t he be happy that I’m retiring? He can skate competitively again. Isn’t that what he wants?

“I’m mad, okay?” He slaps away Yuuri’s hand. He’s never done that before. Viktor’s always had a good hold on his temper. Even when Yuuri was a full hour late for training, even when Yuuri had misplaced the bag of nuts they bought specially to bring back to Japan, even when Yuuri missed training altogether just because he didn’t feel like it, the clouds above Viktor’s head always seemed to clear whenever he had to communicate his displeasure. Yet, today, the clouds only seem to be getting darker and darker, and this time, the rain is pouring.

“You’re the one who said it was only until the Grand Prix Final!”

“I thought you needed my help more.”

“Aren’t you going to make a comeback?” This is it. The million-dollar question. No answer. “You don’t have to worry about me –”

“How can you tell me to return to the ice while saying you’re retiring?” His right hand grips Yuuri’s left shoulder. Yuuri feels the ring digging into his shoulder, through the thick material of his jacket. Viktor is shouting.

The night goes on forever. The frustration is kicking in. Thankfully, neither Phichit nor Christophe are in their rooms, otherwise they’d definitely hear the heated exchange, and then the clandestine questioning will begin, and then they will make sure the both of them get back together, and then –

“You’re the only thing keeping me here right now,” Viktor whispers, worn down by the argument. He looks like he’s in pain. His hands are cupping his face, like he doesn’t know what to do anymore. His love is slipping away before his eyes, like the gold medal is slipping away before Yuuri’s own eyes, and, _yeah, I get that_. They’ve had this conversation about Viktor’s mental health a million times, but…

“I’m holding you back, Viktor.”

“Do you want to do well in the free skate?”

“Of course. It’s my last season.”

“Good.” _Then he’s not going to hold me back, is he? Why do I have an idiot for a fiancé?_ Viktor doesn’t understand. His thoughts are cloudy.

“Then let’s make our own decisions after the free skate. You’re tired, aren’t you?”

They retire for the day into each other’s embrace. Yuuri slots himself into Viktor’s chest, and familiar arms wrap around his waist. He can feel the ring moving gently across his stomach, and back again. Viktor brings his right leg over Yuuri’s. His head is nestled in Yuuri’s right shoulder. Yuuri can feel his lover’s breath escaping his mouth, lightly, at a steady tempo. He smells like the lavender hotel shampoo, and his breath smells like the mouthwash they share. Fresh mint. His head is still running wild with questions about the future, but Viktor’s calming presence is more than enough of an answer.

This is their last night together.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri doesn’t do well in the free skate the next day.

A panic attack grips him right before his was supposed to perform, and the tense atmosphere between him and Viktor doesn’t do anything to help the situation. Yes, Viktor strokes Yuuri’s back through the attack. Yes, Viktor whispers “you’re okay, you’re okay” through the attack. Yes, Viktor is doing all he can to help Yuuri. He peppers kisses all over Yuuri’s face and gives him water to drink and his warm, calming presence. Yet…

Yuuri can’t help but think about how he’s been holding Viktor back throughout the routine. “I don’t want it to end here, Viktor,” he thinks, as he lands a triple Lutz, triple toe loop combination, “but your staying on as my coach means slowly killing you as a competitive skater.” He is scared, he really is. Never in Yuuri’s life had he been willing to give up figure skating. It has been his only constant through the friendships that never lasted, through the numerous home rink migrations and through his own inner turmoil.

 _Damn it, he’s thinking too much. His face says it all!_  Viktor says as he hides behind the tissue box. He shakes it off and focuses on the good jumps, the good spins, the good step sequence execution. _But it doesn’t feel right! He’s rushing through the routine. He’s already tired!_

Before long, the routine is over. Yuuri skates off the ice. He looks shaken up, even more so than during the Rostelecom Cup. Viktor wants to chide him for the hurried movements and rushed timing throughout the free skate, but he knows that Yuuri probably doesn’t need to hear that.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri mutters. “At least you don’t have to stay on as my coach if I bomb it all here, right?” A small smile emerges. It’s thin-lipped, and Yuuri doesn’t mean it, but Viktor sees it nonetheless. He’s going to cry. He feels the tears prickling behind his eyelids, and he brings his hands to his face to salvage his dignity at the Kiss and Cry. He’s not going to fight Yuuri now, though, not in front of all the cameras and certainly not in front of the eager audience.

The audience. They don’t seem too happy about how the routine went – _oh_. The scores are up. 178.56. It’s not a bad score. He didn’t beat his PB though, and the total score looks like it’s going to be a hair’s width away from the podium.

And it is. Yuuri’s final score is less than a point away from Otabek’s. He takes home the bronze, and Yuuri takes home his and Viktor’s shattered dream. Needless to say, the walk back to the hotel is painful. Heavy teardrops are escaping Yuuri’s eyes. While they’re having dinner, silence falls upon them like a blanket. Pitiful sobs escape him ever so often. It’s over. He knows it. He bombed his final performance and _Yurio isn’t here to give me pirozhki this time. I’m all alone._

They’re lying on the beds. Room service separated them. “Viktor, get back into the fold. I ruined this for the both of us. It’s not worth it if you stay,” Yuuri thinks. He doesn’t know it, but his thoughts escape through his oral cavity.

“What did you say?!” Viktor is yelling. “You can’t just leave me alone like this, Yuuri.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I know you’re tired.” Yuuri pecks Viktor on the lips. _I love you so much, Viktor. I can’t stand to see you hurt_ , Yuuri thinks as he wipes the tears from his face.

_But I need to do this, for your sake._

The next day, Yuuri wakes up early. He’s quiet. He’s subtle. He leaves his keycard on the table. He wheels his luggage outside. Before he closes the heavy door though, he takes one last look at his sleeping fiancé. His ring is still on his ring finger, glinting in the light.

 _I’m sorry_ , Yuuri thinks, as he closes the door gently behind him. He cries all over again.

> _A necessity for apologies between you and me? Baby, there is none._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor’s feet stopped moving on their own when he approached the door to the hotel room. Yuuri’s luggage was gone.

 

> _We had some good times, didn't we?_

Viktor already had an inkling of what could have happened when he didn’t see a raven mop of hair on the bed next to his. The room felt almost eerily serene. Yuuri would usually draw the curtains open right after he rose. “It makes the room feel warmer. It’s nice,” he says. Today, only the aggressive white light from the ceiling enables Viktor to see his surroundings.

“There is no way he actually left… He probably just went out to get drinks and breakfast or something… right? Right,” Viktor muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He mustered enough energy to pull himself out of bed, rubbing his bleary eyes. He was still groggy and his mind was a mess. _It’s unlikely Yuuri would just leave without even drawing the curtains. That’s strange._

Viktor’s feet stopped moving on their own when he approached the door to the hotel room. Yuuri’s luggage was gone. The whole suitcase was gone. “Shit, shit, shit, there’s no way…” He squeezes his eyes closed. As he began pacing around in his anxiety, the presence of two key cards on the coffee table near the doorway confirmed his suspicions. _He left…_

Viktor didn’t see it coming. Yuuri was the one who bought the rings. They had already guaranteed to each other a future together. _Why did Yuuri leave? He knows I don’t mind coaching him, so why did he leave? He’s going to compete next season, right? He won’t quit because he missed the podium two years in a row. He’s not that kind of person._

Viktor picked his phone up from the nightstand. It’s noon. They were due to board a plane back to Japan at 8 in the evening. He made a decision right there and then.

After the flight landed, Yuuri hastily took out his phone and turned on mobile data like his life depended on it. The connection came instantly, as did a flurry of text messages. Most of them went something like _“Where are you?”_ and _“Don’t be disappointed, Yuuri –”_ and the most important messages didn’t deviate from the former thread.

* * *

 _Viktor_ _ <3: [12:28] Yuuri, where are you?_

_Viktor <3: [12:28] I’m worried about you _

_Viktor <3: [12:28] Call me _

Yuuri let a smile creep up his face. He felt guilty for leaving, but he never thought he’d still feel endearment after he left Viktor. “It’s just a break, we’ll be back together soon,” Yuuri told himself, pocketing his phone and keeping his head down. He rose from his seat, walked out of the plane and into the airport, drowned by the sound of his guilt and the cool white around him. The white light contrasted aggressively against the pitch black of midnight Hasetsu. It was silent, almost as if all living creatures were in mourning of Yuuri’s dead career and now, Yuuri’s dead relationship.

He knew what could come out of this. He could fall back into his spiral of anxiety, he could never find someone who loved him like Viktor did, and he could never redeem himself ever again. One thing was for sure though – Yuuri was going to retire for good. Two times of failure was enough for him. With the second one being so humiliating not only to himself but also to _five-time world champion in figure skating Viktor Nikiforov_ , it was the last straw for him.

_Viktor can skate on his own. He can return to glory with nothing in his way. After all, I’ve decimated all his opponents’ perceptions of a Nikiforov disciple._

For the first time in a full year, the walk back home was lonely. Yuuri exhausted a packet of tissue walking through the park, remembering the time he spent together with Viktor. If things were different, his hand would be in Viktor’s tonight, Viktor’s warmth sheltering him from the cold of the night. His phone wouldn’t have been the only thing giving him warmth that night.

He pulled his phone from his pocket out of habit and dialled a familiar number.

“Phichit-kun?”

“Yuuri, where are you? Viktor has been spam-calling me for ages, you need to tell me what’s going on –”

“Help me, Phichit. I’m scared,” Yuuri whispered into the phone, helpless. Somehow, he’d found his way into the fated cherry blossom park. It was his and Viktor’s retreat after practice, as well as the place where Viktor first ventured into Yuuri’s conversational forbidden territory. It was the place where Viktor first showed any interest in Yuuri’s personal life. Yuuri found a bench in the park, setting his luggage down by his feet.

“Yuuri, where are you? I’m worried about you,” Phichit’s inquired calmly. Yuuri informs Phichit of his location and cuts Phichit off with a question.

“Do you remember when I called you after Viktor asked me about my dark past?”

“Yeah, you had a panic attack while I was on the phone with you.” Phichit had resigned to following Yuuri’s train of thought, but it was soon lost.

Silence.

“Do you like Viktor?” Yuuri asked suddenly.

“I like anyone who makes you happy and makes me food.” Phichit’s voice echoed via the static. Phichit laughed over the phone. Yuuri hated being on the phone with his friends while he’s on a verge of an anxiety attack. The sensation of static against his ear was unnerving, but when Phichit laughed through the phone, Yuuri felt strangely at ease. It was as if he was home again.

“Remember when you visited Japan earlier this year? When Viktor almost poisoned you with his katsudon?” Yuuri asked. Overcome by nostalgia, Yuuri recalled the moment Phichit tasted the katsudon. _“Shit, Viktor, you put in too much salt! I hate this!”_ were Phichit’s exact words. He remembered what it was like when Viktor was preparing the meal. He remembered the moment Viktor had just gotten started and had conveniently spotted Yuuri standing in the kitchen doorway, and when he himself walked over and brought his hands over Viktor’s broad shoulders. He remembered that Viktor was holding the salt bottle upside-down when they started making out in the kitchen, in front of the stove, in plain sight of anyone who’d entered the kitchen at that moment.

He felt bliss.

“Yeah, I remember when the both of you spiked my food with traces of PDA,” Phichit mused wistfully. “So what’s up with you and Viktor?”

“I… I think I want us to take a break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been kicked in the butt by life lately. i've sorry for the lack of updates for the past couple of weeks; thank you for your patience! i'm back in full force now. i'll be updating weekly from now onwards.
> 
> as always, you can hmu on tumblr [@um-dont](http://um-dont.tumblr.com). prompts on my sideblog are closed for now.
> 
> thank you for your comments, kudos and bookmarks! each and every one keeps me going.

**Author's Note:**

> weekly updates will be pretty short (mostly <1000 words) for consistency, but i promise it's worth the wait!
> 
> you can hmu on tumblr [@um-dont](http://um-dont.tumblr.com), or send me prompts [here](http://um-do.tumblr.com/prompts)!
> 
> thank you for your kudos, comments and bookmarks :-)


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